Nothing If Not By Your Side
by Crimson1
Summary: What if Hisoka found a way to grow up? TxH 66! Final chapter! Fluff, sap, and inspiring declarations. PLEASE READ & REVIEW!
1. Part 1

Nothing If Not By Your Side  
  
  
*****1*****  
  
  
(I am nothing.)  
  
Light, indiscernible footsteps fall upon a tiled floor, clicking in rhythm to the tick-tock anthem of his wristwatch.  
  
(When faced with a truly dangerous enemy, he always comes to the rescue, while I stand helplessly behind, unable to do anything.)  
  
An elevator door closes in front of him as he steps inside, like that of a cage or chilling cell, vibrating low in his chest, and forcing him to unwillingly hold his breath. He has never cared for elevators. There is too much control given up when a machine is handed not only the fate of your destination, but the bearings of your feet.  
  
(He risks his life - what life he has - for me, and I can do nothing to help.)  
  
Ding. The dreaded doors open and his chosen destination lies before him. That same rhythmic click begins as he heads down a narrow hallway, intending to reach the room at the very end, whether he is welcome within or not.  
  
(What kind of partner am I if I can't even play my part in battle? What use am I to him?)  
  
An eerie glow greets him from the crack beneath the door of the room he will soon reach. It offsets him only a heartbeat, though, for the person on the other side is greatly needed, and the reason too important to be left for nothing.  
  
(I refuse to stand by and watch him suffer for me - for anything - ever again.)  
  
Trembling fingers reach up to the handle on the uninviting door, pausing moments before the completion of their desired act. Time has never been on his side. But today, this very day, he will make it his.  
  
(We will be equals. I refuse to accept anything less.)  
  
Kurosaki Hisoka pulls open the door to the basement laboratory, met by a wave of foul smelling air in a cloud of putrid smoke. It is well known among shinigami that Watari's lab is one to be entered with great caution, keeping a sharp lookout for what may await you inside.  
  
"Ah...Watari-san...?"  
  
"NOROU!!" screams a voice from within the thick clouds of smoke, followed by a succession of breaking glass and a very angry stomp at the ground. "Shippai! So close, and still nothing to show for it!"  
  
"Watari-san, daijobu desu, ka?"  
  
"Eh? Bon? Is that you?"  
  
The whirring of a fan follows the flick of some unseen switch, and slowly the clouds of smoke begin to dissipate, leaving behind the image of a very frazzled Watari with tousled hair and crooked glasses balancing on the tip of his nose. Clearly, his latest attempt at whatever concoction he had been experimenting with, wasn't very successful. A pile of broken test tubes lies scattered on the table in front of him.  
  
Waving a small hand at the remaining haze in the air, Hisoka approaches Watari's work station, raising an eyebrow in question as to what his eccentric friend had been trying to accomplish. Actually, he has a pretty good idea.  
  
"Still working on that foolish potion of yours?"  
  
Watari grimaces, straightening his tilted spectacles. "You won't think my gender change potion is so foolish once I get it right, Kurosaki-kun. It could revolutionize modern science!"  
  
"Hn...if you say so." Hisoka comments with little generosity. The force that has brought him here today is much stronger than mere flights of fancy. "Watari-san...may I ask something of you?"  
  
Fiddling with the broken bits of glass, Watari's large brown eyes brighten kindly as he looks back up at Hisoka from the mess of his desk. "Of course! I am always ready to help someone in need. What is it you wish to ask?"  
  
"I want you to make a potion for me."  
  
"For you? Nothing dangerous or illegal I hope?" the smiling scientist answers back, carefully sweeping the remnants of his failure into the trash.  
  
"Iie, nothing like that." Hisoka reassures. "I need a potion that can make a person...grow older."  
  
The little hand-broom Watari had been using drops to the table. Staring hard at Hisoka, he looks suddenly very serious and unsettled. Hisoka is unable to return the look directly, not one for intimacy in any of its forms, but he feels the weight of Watari's eyes bearing down on him as if their very depths hold all the boundaries of gravity.  
  
A few unbearable moments pass in silence, too still and unnatural for comfort. Eventually, the quiet is disrupted, but the tone and quality of Watari's voice breaking into it is an alarmingly unfamiliar sound.  
  
"Doushite?" he asks, low and steady, with eyes still centered on Hisoka's face. "To have you ask this of me, I am entitled to some explanation, ne?"  
  
Lowering his gaze, Hisoka focuses on the intricate patterns in the floor - anything to keep himself from having to look back at his intent interrogator. "Don't assume you know the answer. I am not a child! I shouldn't have to look like one...live like one...and be this useless, just because I didn't live long enough to grow up."  
  
The young boy's words are hallow, falling out of the air like drops of lead. The meaning buried within them, however, is so deeply severe that not a single syllable could be ignored.  
  
Hisoka begins to pick up on the shuffling of approaching feet, well aware that Watari is moving around the desk to be closer to him. Without even trying, he absorbs the blonde's every pulsing emotion, overcome more and more by the sheer force of feeling as the space between them thins.  
  
"I was almost expecting you to say something else." comes Watari's melodic voice, gentle, and yet nearly teasing in the way the notes play out. "For *those* reasons...I don't see why I shouldn't help you, Kurosaki-kun. As long as you're sure those really are the reasons you want this."  
  
"What other reasons would there be?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know. People do things for stupid reasons all the time. I guess I'm a little concerned. I wouldn't want you to regret your decision."  
  
"I won't." Hisoka declares firmly, raising his lime-colored eyes from the safety of the floor. "Dozo, Watari-san. I'm asking you to do this for me. I...need this. And I don't need anything."  
  
Desperation laces every word coming from the young boy's mouth, exuding more emotion than he would usually dare to express in the company of another. Hisoka generally keeps to himself. Certainly, being partnered with Tsuzuki for so long has affected him greatly, but it is a whole new world to alter someone's true nature, even if they want to be changed.  
  
Studying the contours of Watari's face, Hisoka delves deep into the emotions his friend is experiencing, breathing a sigh of grateful relief when the corner's of the blonde's mouth twitch into a satisfied smile.  
  
"Hmmm...you know what, Bon?" Watari begins, with a playful twinkle in his eye. "I believe you. Why don't you stop by tomorrow after dinner? I've dabbled in potions like this before, so it shouldn't take me long to make one for you. Although...there is something I still need to know."  
  
"Nan desu, ka?"  
  
Watari's smile broadens, and Hisoka suddenly feels overcome by chills that wrack his entire frame. They are not caused by cold or fear, but by an odd heat buried deep inside his body.   
  
For some unexplainable reason, he believes Watari is trying to trap him.  
  
"How old do you want to be?" the suspicious scientist inquires.  
  
"I hadn't really thought about it." Hisoka admits, averting his eyes once again, and struggling to suppress the quivering in the pit of his stomach. "I suppose I'd like to be around -"  
  
"Tsuzuki's age?" Watari jumps in, snatching up the opportunity before him like a hungry animal on the prowl.  
  
Hisoka flinches, folding his arms in front of his chest as if to make his body smaller, more easily hidden and confined within himself. "Hmph...Tsuzuki acts like a three-year-old."  
  
"You mean to say, he seems younger than he is, ne?" Watari questions, devouring the boy's obvious feelings of discomfort. "Still, I can tell you want to be closer in age to Tsuzuki. In your early 20's, perhaps? Six or seven years older?"  
  
"Whatever..." the unsettled boy grumbles in reply, growing steadily impatient, and craving the sanctity of release from this room. "Just be sure I don't end up turning into a toddler or some decaying corpse. Your spells have a tendency to backfire."  
  
Now it is Watari's turn to flinch. "That's harsh of you, Bon. Do you want my help or not? I am an experienced scientist, ne? I promise I can deliver what you've asked for. No side-affects or mishaps for you to worry your disgruntled, little head over, either."  
  
The comment is meant to lighten the dreary mood Hisoka seems to carry with him wherever he goes, but in the boy's mind, this exchange has run its course. He longs to escape the laboratory, sighing heavily in defeat and concealed defiance.  
  
At last, the final traces of smoke have been swept away by the fan in the ceiling, and yet there remains a thickness in the air, threatening to swallow both shinigami if they dare to breath in more than they should.  
  
"Sumimasen, Watari-san. I have complete faith in you." Hisoka mends, forcing himself to look up again, though the intensity of Watari's eyes seem as if they might scald him should he linger too long. "What do you want in return?"  
  
"Oh, you don't owe me anything for this, Bon." replies a hearty laugh. "I look forward to seeing what you'll look like all grown up. In fact, I think I'm really going to enjoy this."  
  
Having had his fill of the conversation, Hisoka offers a half-hearted nod, and chooses to take his leave, sweeping out of the lab like the unstoppable force of nature he has always proven to be.  
  
Left to the solitude of his work, Watari chuckles slightly to himself as he moves to the back of the room, gathering up the supplies he will need to fulfill the promise he is eager to carry out.   
  
Pecking at the back of his buzzing thoughts, he finds a certain humor in the situation developing.  
  
Scientists have an obligation to excel in levels of perception if they plan to carry out their work effectively, and Watari prides himself on being an extremely keen observer. He has believed for quite some time, actually, that the universe's youngest shinigami would one day knock on his door and ask for the very thing that was asked for today.  
  
(Hai, I *am* going to enjoy this, Kurosaki-kun...) Watari muses, humming a familiar tune beneath his breath, and smiling happily to himself as he sets to work. (...though not nearly as much as Tsuzuki will.)  
  
  
*****A/N*****  
  
  
My first Yami fic! I hope you're enjoying it so far, and that you are intrigued by what this story will bring about. I know Rina K. Fenderson already wrote a fic with the same idea behind it, "Five Years in Five Days" (which I strongly recommend you read) but this shall be quite different. Truthfully, I thought up the idea long before I read Rina's fic, but she deserves credit for posting it first. :-) I will do my best to stray from what she created, while still holding true to how things would really play out. Arigato, minna, for reading, and PLEASE REVIEW!!!! 


	2. Part 2

*****2*****  
  
  
Deja vu.  
  
The tapping of small feet on a recently waxed floor, an elevator left thankfully behind, and a waiting door, enticing him forward with the promise of what lies on the other side.  
  
Hisoka has been counting down the seconds, agonizing over every passing hour following his brief meeting with Watari yesterday afternoon. After dinner is when the peculiar scientist had instructed him to come calling, but the anxious boy hasn't been able to eat a thing all day.   
  
It is now six o'clock on the nose, and he cannot bear to wait another moment. Pushing open the door before him, Hisoka once again enters the basement laboratory, consumed by something far less pleasant than the foul smoke that had greeted him the day before. He is plagued by fearful anticipation, and with good reason.  
  
The lab appears to be empty.  
  
"Watari-san...?" he calls hesitantly, wandering further inside to peer towards the back of the room. "It's Kurosaki. Are you in?"  
  
A muffled reply from behind a door on the other side of the lab answers his inquiry, but Hisoka is unable to decipher what has been said. Relief floods his senses, nevertheless, for the voice had clearly been Watari's. Hopefully, this means the unique blonde is at this very moment finishing up the potion Hisoka requested.  
  
Sitting at a stool in front of the main counter, the young boy settles himself in to wait. The air is much cleaner today, curiously fresh and fragrant, and Hisoka is instantly reminded of a field from his youth, drifting his thoughts back to a time long passed.   
  
The field had rested just outside his family's land, eternally smelling of fresh rain and blooming cherry blossoms.   
  
Cherry blossoms. They bloom all year in Meifu, falling from the trees and blowing in the gentle, ceaseless wind without fail. Those pink petals often remind him of that field. Unfortunately, it is a place he wishes he could forget.  
  
(If Watari succeeds, I won't have to feel this way anymore.) Hisoka muses, distancing his gaze in the rapture of thought and memory. (I will be strong, like Tsuzuki, and finally able to put that night behind me. I'll have my freedom from what happened in that field. From what...he did to me...)  
  
Flashes of a crimson moon burn their way into Hisoka's mind, imprinted on the inside of his eyelids, despite his hope in escaping the sight by clenching his large, green eyes shut.   
  
The image remains - inescapable.   
  
A painful and yet revoltingly satisfying warmth swarms within him, low in his stomach. It is a feeling he is all too familiar with. The memories of what it felt like when Muraki took his vengeance.  
  
Hisoka is trembling, with beads of sweat forming at the creases in his forehead, and dripping from the golden strands of his hair. The memory is more than just a memory. Thinking of that night is like reliving what happened all over again. He sees the moon, the darkness of the sky; hears the low laughter and brutal whispers of Muraki's voice; feels the smooth touch of those eager hands, that enveloping body against his own, forcing him to experience something no child should ever have to know.  
  
A sharp gasp escapes Hisoka quivering lips, and his eyes spring open. Someone has placed a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Bon, are you all right?" questions Watari's clear and concerned voice, pulling Hisoka back from the clutches of his past. "I was calling your name, but you didn't answer. You're not feeling sick, are you?"  
  
Leaping from the stool, Hisoka spins around as his feet touch the floor, backing away from his fretting friend clumsily. "I...I'm fine! It's nothing." he lies, darting his eyes about the room, as if unable to rest them comfortably on anything in sight. "You should know better than to sneak up on people."  
  
The bewildered stare Watari replies with radiates mistrust, as well as the honest desire to catch Hisoka in this blatant evasion. Nevertheless, the observant blonde chooses to turn a blind eye, smiling sympathetically, and revealing a violet colored solution within a test tube he had been holding behind his back.  
  
In an instant, Hisoka's recent regression distills into thoughts even less than memory, and he takes in a soothing breath, unable to voice his burning questions.  
  
Could this be the answer he has been waiting for? Is this simple liquid the final step in allowing his body to reach what his mind already claims? Will he at last become an equal match for his partner...?  
  
"Don't thank me all at once, Kurosaki-kun." Watari smirks, his words riddled with laughter concerning Hisoka's tangled tongue. "I finished about an hour ago, but I've been testing it to make sure the formula came out right. No human guinea pigs to use, of course, but I'm confident enough. Ready to leave childhood behind then, or are you having second thoughts?"  
  
Hisoka jars himself from his silenced excitement, looking up into Watari's eyes with eager anticipation. "No second thoughts. I'm ready." he states, unfaltering and consumed by obvious impatience. "What do I have to do?"  
  
"Drink it all in one swallow - the faster the better - and sit down immediately if you feel faint." Watari instructs, holding the vile out for Hisoka to take, and looking as if he expects his patient to consume it this very second. "Go ahead. I'm anxious to see what happens."  
  
Taking hold of his prize in small, uncertain fingers, Hisoka gazes down into the purple liquid - an eerie match for the color of Tsuzuki's eyes - and then back up at Watari with narrowed eyes of his own. "Here? Now? I thought...well...I was hoping I could take it in private."  
  
"Don't be so shy!" Watari laughs. "What if something goes wrong?"  
  
"I thought you said it was safe?"  
  
"Of course it's safe, but...anything's possible." the elusive scientist explains, shrugging his shoulders and offering a smile of encouragement that falls devastatingly short.  
  
Hisoka is far from reassured. Naturally, he is willing to take whatever risks are necessary, but he is an extremely private individual. Something this personal, with the power to make him so vulnerable in body and mind, isn't something he wants to share with anyone until he is ready to have it known.  
  
Even if Watari *is* the one he has to thank for granting him this unprecedented opportunity, the sacrifice in permitting him to witness the process is something Hisoka cannot accept.  
  
"I want to be alone, in my own room." the adamant boy expresses. "I'll call for you if something goes wrong. I'll call when it's...finished, whether it works or not. But I refuse to do it here."  
  
"You won't let me watch? I'm a scientist; it's my job to observe experiments!"  
  
Darkening his gaze all the more, Hisoka does not reply, but the firm, unyielding intensity enveloping his child-like features gives enough incentive to change Watari's mind.  
  
"Urr...you are so stubborn, Bon." the defeated blonde grumbles, folding his arms across his chest like a child pouting for not getting his way. "Do what you want then. But call the minute the change is completed, and take it easy when the effects first hit you. This isn't going to be some walk in the park, so be careful."  
  
"Arigato, Watari-san." Hisoka replies, bowing his head ever so slightly. He then moves instantly for the door, holding hints of a smile in his emerald eyes, though it is nearly impossible for the expression to reach his lips.  
  
"Matte, Kurosaki-kun. I'm not through with you yet."  
  
Pausing at the door, Hisoka turns back, following Watari's movements as the energetic man bends over behind the counter, producing a small suitcase when he pops back up again.  
  
"Some clothes for after the change. Wouldn't want you running around naked, now, would we?" the grinning blonde clarifies, handing Hisoka the olive-colored bag. It has a small rip up one side, indicating its years of dutiful service. "None of your things will fit after you take the potion, but you should be able to find something in there. I had to estimate for size, of course, so I gave you a variety. Don't worry about paying me back; you'd be surprised at some of the things I have lying around. I guess I'm a bit a pack-rat."  
  
Hisoka offers an appreciative nod in gratitude, accepting the gift somewhat warily. Inside, however, he is sighing greatly in relief. He hadn't even thought about becoming too big for his clothes.  
  
Thankfully, he doesn't have to worry about it anymore. In fact, most of Hisoka's recent worries drain away as he leaves the lab behind him. There is an impossible lightness in his step, a carefree presence about him that seems misplaced, like it doesn't belong. Hisoka is one of the many children in this world who never really had a childhood. Yet, for so many years, he has been imprisoned within the body of a sixteen-year-old boy.   
  
A boy who wants nothing more than to become a man.  
  
(This is it. No more sitting on the sidelines. No more holding back in fear, not knowing what to do next.) Hisoka contemplates, almost enjoying the elevator ride as he waits to be dropped off at his floor. (One drink, one swallow, and I'll have it in my possession. The strength to be on even ground with Tsuzuki.)  
  
Stretching out as if miles in the distance, Hisoka discovers the trek back to his room has become a long voyage that grates against his nerves. Why is it that whenever you want to be somewhere, you can never get there fast enough?  
  
Eventually, all the endless paths of hallways and corners are behind him. Hisoka closes his door sharply upon reaching the solitude of his room, and locks it shut. The last thing he wants tonight is to be interrupted.  
  
(All I have to do is drink...)  
  
Placing the vile gently on his nightstand, with the suitcase set beside the bed, Hisoka turns away for a moment, drawn to the mirror hung on his closet door. As he approaches, the sight of a scrawny, teenage boy greets him, and he frowns even deeper than his usual scowl. Always does he see the same sight, the same reflection gawking back. Large green eyes stare in disgust, hair like grains of wheat fall haphazardly over his forehead, and even the shape of his face is like that of a child. He hates the boy he sees in the mirror. He has always hated him.  
  
Pulling himself away from the sight he hopes he will be able to put behind him, Hisoka moves back beside the bed. Slowly, he pulls his orange T-shirt off over his head, letting it fall carelessly to the floor, then goes to remove his shoes and socks, equally apathetic, until finally moving to undo his pants.  
  
(I'll only ruin them if I keep them on during the change.) Hisoka rationalizes, eyeing the vile on the table beside him.  
  
Even hearing his own sensible voice inside his head, however, does little to quell the unease over what he is about to do. Soon, his body will no longer be what it has been for so long. He will not be the Kurosaki Hisoka he is at this very moment. He will still be Hisoka, but he will be different. And the difference is what scares him. That is, if Watari's potion works.  
  
Hisoka does not move away from the bed towards that miraculous solution, but instead looks down at his body critically. He still has to take off his briefs. It comes as something rather peculiar to him, but he feels a certain apprehension in removing them for this. If the potion does work, he will be a man, not a boy, and there is an unknown representation in that. A man. Not a boy.  
  
Shaking his head to clear away those straying thoughts, he sets his resolve in stone, and slips his underwear off. Standing naked now in his bedroom, there is only one thing left to do. Take the potion, take the chance, and see what happens.  
  
The glass of the vile feels smooth and cold to the touch as it meets Hisoka's hand once again, and the violet liquid inside is calling him to make his move. What can he do but obey? Breathing deeply, he places the potion to his lips and pours it down, tossing his head back as it flows over his throat.  
  
Almost immediately, the vile falls from his hand, landing softly on the carpet, for the potion is burning inside of him, far more abrasive than he expected it to be. He coughs and stumbles, struck by a wave of nausea as the liquid settles in his stomach, flowing through him unnaturally, and absorbing into every cell of his body. The world is spinning, and he is burning alive from inside.  
  
Sinking to his knees, Hisoka reaches out for the bed, but his hands discover nothing but air. He collapses back on the floor, writhing as his breath quickens within him. It isn't painful. It doesn't hurt the way the body aches and tingles. The feeling is like what your fingers go through when they reach warm air after being out in the bitter cold. Only Hisoka feels it inside out, escaping his pores.  
  
It is as if every fiber of his being is being stretched and expanded, afflicted by burning cold, and the rampant fear he cannot overcome.  
  
Is this normal? Is this what he is supposed to be feeling?  
  
Then, just then, when panic threatens to overcome him, Hisoka feels the affects beginning to wane, and his vision begins to clear. Suddenly, he is perfectly fine, lying exhausted on his bedroom floor.  
  
Hours pass that are only moments, and Hisoka is still lying on the carpet, afraid to move or look over his body to see if the potion worked.   
  
He certainly does feel...different.  
  
Forcing all anxieties away, he sits up, allowing the slight dizziness remaining to pass, before slowly getting to his feet. Still, he cannot bring himself to look down at his body. No, he must see it full on, feel the affect of truth wash over him in a single moment.  
  
To whatever God Hisoka believes in, he prays, he pleads, that the image in the mirror will be a man and not a boy. Moving back to that full-length mirror on his closet door, he is about to find out just what that image really is.  
  
  
*****A/N*****  
  
  
Oh, I'm so tired, but I refused to go to bed until this chapter was done. Sorry for the slight cliff-hanger, but if you've ever read my fics before, you'll remember how much I love doing this to my poor readers.  
  
Thanks for the reviews so far, and please keep 'em coming to keep my motivation up. I'm a busy girl, but I will not let this fic fall beside the wayside.   
  
Ja! 


	3. Part 3

*****3*****  
  
  
A drop of water would sound like a downpour if one dared to fall within the tiny bedroom, for no sound save shallow, uncertain breathing, fills the suffocating space.   
  
Hisoka stands stark naked in the middle of his room, walking hesitantly towards the mirror on his closet door. Bright, green eyes remain shut as he approaches, feeling his way with small steps forward, until at last he knows he is right in front of the mirror, with his reflection waiting to be seen.  
  
He opens his eyes...but where has he gone? Who is this figure staring back?  
  
Long strands of blonde hair hang just past his shoulders, emerald eyes gaze into him, devoid of their once rounded shape, breathtaking features, still his own and yet more refined with experience and maturity, look on in sheer awe, and his body...is far from that of a sixteen-year-old boy.  
  
Lean and well-muscled, Hisoka's chest has become broader, his arms more toned, as well as his powerful legs, and everything presents the image of an incredibly beautiful man in his early 20's, admiring what fate, luck, and the diligence of a good friend, has awarded him.  
  
The first sensation Hisoka feels is one urging him to smile, laugh, shout for joy. But he can't. The reflection before him is more than he expected it to be. It holds something he hoped he would be able to avoid facing ever again: his family.  
  
Hisoka looks exactly like his father.  
  
(I knew it would come out like this. I knew it...) the dejected young man pines, ripping his gaze from the mirror. He sluggishly returns to the bed, sinking down on the edge of the mattress. (I shouldn't be upset. It worked. I grew up. Everything is different now, and it's not as if I look...bad. But...to look like *him*. I always have, in my own way, but I can see it so much clearer now that I'm not a little boy anymore.)  
  
Leaning down to pick up the suitcase, Hisoka places it beside him on the bed, opening it to rummage through the clothes as he attempts to ignore the down-side in growing up, and focuses on the achievement in gaining something he has always wanted.  
  
(I guess it's just one more thing I'll never truly escape.)  
  
Packed neatly in the bag Watari had given him, there are a few pairs of boxers and briefs, a couple pair of pants in black and grey, a pair of jeans, and a handful of differently styled shirts. All in all, not a bad bundle for getting started on his new wardrobe. And after a fleeting glance at his old clothes still crumpled on the floor, he is certain he's going to need one.  
  
Choosing a pair of red boxers, black slacks, and a lime green, button-down shirt that complements his eyes unbelievably, Hisoka begins to get dressed. The process is a bit awkward at first, considering he still isn't familiar with using such long arms and legs. Not to mention the change in weight he has to get used to maneuvering, which is quite a bit more difficult for him than it would be for someone who had grown into such a body normally.  
  
Finally, retrieving a pair of tennis shoes from the bottom of the suitcase, Hisoka and his new look are ready for an evening of exploration. Before he forgets, though, he has to call Watari and tell him how things went.  
  
"Moshi-moshi! Watari Yutaka speaking."  
  
"Kombanwa, Watari-san. I have some good news for you." Hisoka begins, sitting on the edge of his bed again with the phone put up to his ear.   
  
Even dialing had been a new experience with such large hands to utilize, and Hisoka surprises himself at how much the corners of his mouth long to stretch into a smile.  
  
"Eh? Dare desu, ka? Do I know you?"  
  
"Nani? Of course you know me! It's Kurosaki. Kurosaki Hisoka."  
  
"Bon? This is *you*?" the scientist erupts, sounding suddenly very excited and alert. "I didn't recognize your voice. Sugoi! That means the potion was a success, ne? You sound so much older."  
  
"I do?" Hisoka questions in reply. Truthfully, he hadn't even noticed, but now that the difference in pitch has been pointed out, he can easily hear it. Though his voice still sounds like his own, it has dropped a few degrees lower. "This is incredible. Everything turned out just as I hoped it would, and once the room stopped spinning, I felt perfectly fine. The only problem was...errr...nevermind."  
  
"Nan desu, ka?" prompts Watari immediately, dripping with concern. "If something is wrong, you must tell me right away. Don't think you can take any of this lightly, Bon. You've aged a good seven years in just a few minutes."  
  
Crinkling his brow, Hisoka instantly regrets even bringing it up. "Nothing is wrong. I feel fine. Better than fine, actually. It just unnerved me a little at how much I resemble my...father...that's all."  
  
Watari offers a confirming grunt of understanding, but since the matter isn't one that affects the achievement of his potion, he leaves the matter where it stands.  
  
Following a few grueling questions on what Hisoka went through and what changes he has undergone, the ecstatic scientist finally consents to hanging up, but only after insisting that he come over at once to see the outcome of his experiment for himself.   
  
Meaning, despite how much he wants to leave, Hisoka isn't going anywhere.  
  
(I'm stuck here till Watari comes.) he grumbles internally, falling back on his bed, and taking little note to how much smaller it has become. (This is so frustrating! I just want to get out of here...)  
  
Knock. Knock. Knock.  
  
Hisoka jolts back up again, surprised by this unexpected intrusion. It seems Watari is even more excited than he had realized. No one could get from the basement to Hisoka's apartment *this* fast. The overjoyed scientist must have sprinted the entire way.  
  
Rising from the bed, Hisoka makes his way over to the door and opens it unenthusiastically, praying that he will be able to get rid of Watari as soon as possible. The night is still young, and he'd very much like it stay that way long enough for him to enjoy it.  
  
"How fast did you walk, Watari-san?" Hisoka starts in as he pulls the door open. "I just hung up a few...minutes..." and then the suddenly petrified young man trails off, staring wide-eyed at this unforeseen visitor standing outside his door.  
  
It is not Watari who is looking back at him from the hallway.  
  
"Ahh...Tsuzuki..."  
  
"Dare...?" the violet-eyed shinigami breathes in reply, looking Hisoka over with a scrutinizing gaze. He is dressed in his usual dark suit, with his hair falling adorably into his eyes. "Where is Hisoka?"  
  
Though Hisoka is indeed the young man standing before Tsuzuki now, the poor boy can't find the words with which to defend himself or explain. "Uhh...I..."  
  
"What have you done to Hisoka?!"  
  
Charging forward, Tsuzuki rushes into the room, backing Hisoka against the side wall with twisted features and blazing irises searing through him.   
  
Hisoka is terrified. What should he do? Even if he had the strength to tell Tsuzuki the truth, there's no way to be sure the older man would believe him. And all intents and purposes aside, he doesn't have a voice to speak the truth with.   
  
In all the years Hisoka has known his partner, Tsuzuki has never looked so frightening, and the surge of dark emotion pulsing between them is like nothing the boy has ever felt before. This new body of his is more than just a grown up shell. It has increased his susceptibility to others' feelings, and Tsuzuki always feels everything to its fullest.  
  
This is not at all how Hisoka imagined their first encounter would be.  
  
"Tell me! What have you done to my Hisoka!?!" Tsuzuki roars, and the lamp on the nightstand beside them suddenly shatters into a million tiny fragments. Oh, how powerful the experienced shinigami can prove to be when given a reason.  
  
"I...I..."  
  
"Tsuzuki-san, what are you doing?"  
  
Release. All of Hisoka's fear drains away at the sound of this new voice disrupting the tension. Perfectly timed, Watari has at last joined them in Hisoka's bedroom.  
  
"I see you've met the new Kurosaki-kun. Rather impressive, ne?" the good-natured blonde comments to Tsuzuki casually, coming up beside the two from the open doorway.  
  
Tsuzuki looks to Watari questioningly, his eyes widening much as Hisoka's had, and when he turns back to the pinned young man in front of him, he suddenly releases him and backs away, as if burned by the contact of their skin.  
  
Shivering almost uncontrollably, Hisoka wraps his arms tightly around his body, straying his gaze from the intent need for understanding that is written over Tsuzuki's features. The aftereffect of the older man's surging emotions is stubbornly lingering in his mind and aching in his chest. Tsuzuki had been filled with so much anger and worry in such a short amount of time. It's unbearable.  
  
"Hisoka...?" Tsuzuki whispers, paling blank and shameful for what he had done.  
  
"Hai, Hai. It's amazing how much he has changed." Watari breaks in, moving in close to examine Hisoka's new form. However, Hisoka instinctively flinches away from him. "Calm down, Bon. I have to check if you're all right. We can't have any setbacks, now, can we? I want to make sure you're safe before I let you run off on your own like this."  
  
Resentfully, Hisoka gives in, dropping his hands back to his sides, and allowing Watari to inspect him. With a small device resembling a reading light, the eager scientist examines Hisoka thoroughly; looking in his eyes and ears, listening to his heartbeat and breathing, checking reflexes and responses, and basically doing everything he feels necessary before admitting success. Finally, when Watari appears to be satisfied, he steps back, nodding in approval.  
  
"Subarashii! You're exquisite!" he exclaims, placing his tiny flashlight back inside his coat pocket. "Everything is working normally, and you are in perfect health for someone your age. Your *new* age, that is. I'm so proud!"  
  
Hisoka nods impassively, keeping his eyes trained on the fibers of the carpet. He can feel Tsuzuki watching him. It is more than just the sensation of knowing someone is looking at him, the way it would be for anyone else. For Hisoka, it is truly *feeling* the other person's gaze, as if the contact of their eyes upon him is a tangible act, one that makes the hair on his arms stand on end.  
  
Noticing the friction between his two friends, Watari mumbles something about having somewhere else to be, moving back towards the door, and reassuring Hisoka that the potion is permanent. As long as he doesn't choose to reverse the spell, he can expect to be eternally a young man rather than eternally a little boy.  
  
Vaguely, Hisoka is aware of his voice offering gratitude to Watari's retreating form, but his heart really isn't in it. His heart really doesn't know what it should be feeling right now.  
  
"Hisoka...wakarimasen. Why did you...?"  
  
"Why do you think!?" Hisoka snaps back, before his companion can even finish the thought, and flicking his eyes up from the floor with furious intensity. "I didn't want to be sixteen forever. I never have. You should be able to understand that."  
  
"Hai, I do. Of course I do. I'm just a little...confused." the brunette answers warily. His expression is purely heartbreaking, with every ounce of his focus buried in Hisoka. Unable to keep himself from tracing the outline of the young man's new body, his violet eyes are positively penetrating. "I can't believe you would do something like this without telling me. We're partners, ne? Don't you trust me?"  
  
Tossing his arms in the air in exasperation, Hisoka pushes past Tsuzuki to the other side of the room, scowling darkly. "Baka! You're such a pain! Just because we're partners doesn't mean we have to tell each other everything."  
  
"I know, 'Soka. But...it's not as if you went to the library for an hour without telling me where you were going. This is big. This is important. I thought...with something like this...you would want to share it with me."  
  
Hisoka clenches his eyes shut, wishing his oncoming headache away. Though he is facing with his back to Tsuzuki now, he can still sense the older man's eyes bearing down on him. Even the hurt in Tsuzuki's voice is like sandpaper against his skin.  
  
Uncertain how he should reply, how he even can, Hisoka remains silent and willfully aloof. Remarkably, his body seems to be obeying him in his request for peace of mind. His headache is being held at bay, and Tsuzuki's emotions have reduced to a soft din in the distance.  
  
This new body truly is astounding.  
  
"Hisoka..." Tsuzuki begins again, advancing on his partner from behind. "Gomen nasai. For how I reacted before Watari came in, and for being so harsh now. I just wish...I wish you could be honest with me."  
  
Spinning on his heals, Hisoka has had enough, whether the newfound control over his powers is aiding him or not. "Stop looking at me like that!" he cries, facing Tsuzuki head on, and catching the older man by surprise. "And stop acting like I owe you an explanation for everything I do! I didn't tell you because I knew you'd make a big deal over it. This is mine! Something I wanted just for me, for my own reasons. Can't that be enough for you?"  
  
"Don't be mean, 'Soka. I'm not mad at you. I'm not trying to make you feel bad. I just worry about you. You're my partner. We have to protect each other, ne?"  
  
For a moment, every spec of smoldering emotion within Hisoka boils up to the surface, prepared to fire back at Tsuzuki without mercy. But just as swiftly as it arises, the feelings simmer down and become calmed.   
  
Tsuzuki is only trying to be a friend. He's trying to prove to Hisoka that he will always be there for him. It really isn't fair to get angry over someone's good intentions.  
  
Sighing defeatedly and casting his gaze sheepishly down, Hisoka regrets his outburst, but the feel of Tsuzuki's eyes looking him over still unnerves him. Even though he doesn't really understand why.  
  
"Baka." Hisoka breathes softly. "Protect each other? You're just a foolish romantic."  
  
Thankfully, the sound that answers is the glorious ringing of Tsuzuki's laughter. It draws Hisoka's gaze back up again, and plays in his ears differently than it used to. The sound of it is pure joy and honest emotion, always seeming so impossible to come from a man who has experienced so many horrors.   
  
Once upon a dark and dreary time it had the power to make Hisoka uncomfortable, even angry, but tonight it is the most beautiful thing he has ever heard.  
  
"Ah, 'Soka, you're still the same you, even with a different face. Iie, you don't look all that different, just older, I guess, and taller, too."  
  
"That's what happens when you grow up, Baka."  
  
Again that sweet laughter. "Hai, and you did a good job of it." Tsuzuki grins, easing back into his cheerful demeanor. It suits him so much better. "Hisoka, now that we aren't fighting anymore, can I make a suggestion?"  
  
"Nan desu, ka?"  
  
"Can we go out and celebrate?!"  
  
"Nani?"  
  
"Dozo, Hisoka! It would be so fun. We could go down to Earth. I'll take you out wherever you want. You're of age now, so it doesn't matter where or what you choose."  
  
Hisoka is hesitant, eyeing the excitement on Tsuzuki's face with great caution. The boisterous shinigami has a tendency to come back in pretty rough shape after a night of "having fun". Then again, he has left it up to Hisoka to decide what they do, so the younger man does have some control over the matter.  
  
Hmmm...what to do...?  
  
"Are you sure Tatsumi-san wouldn't disapprove? I don't want you getting me into trouble." Hisoka questions, trying his hardest not to sound too excited about going, even if excited is exactly how he feels. The reply he receives is a vigorous nod from his partner, urging him to give his consent. "In that case, I suppose it wouldn't do too much harm. I need to start getting used to all this, anyway."  
  
"Arigato, Hisoka! I'm so happy! I promise you nothing but fun tonight."  
  
Oddly enough, Hisoka believes him, and he is actually looking forward to what tonight may bring. As a cynical boy trapped in such a young body for so long, he could always find reasons to remain disgruntled while Tsuzuki had fun. But now that they are truly on equal ground, perhaps he can break from the habit.  
  
Making their way out of Meifu and into the big, bad world, Hisoka and Tsuzuki speak surprisingly little to each other. After all, both have quite a bit on their minds. Hisoka's senses are overrun by experiences holding just enough difference to excite him like a newborn child. And Tsuzuki? His senses are pretty overrun, too.  
  
(Kirei na...) the brunette ponders secretly, guarding his thoughts as best he can from his partner's adept gift. (Where did my little Hisoka go? He's quite the bishounen now. Still with that pretty face, but all grown up. I don't really see him differently, but then I do, and it takes me by surprise. Hmm. I hope you let yourself have fun tonight, 'Soka, but I promise I'll do my best to help you.)  
  
  
*****A/N*****  
  
  
Hazzah! 3 parts down! Hope you're still intrigued. I'm loving the reviews so far, and also how the story is progressing. Next comes the boys' night out, so keep reading and REVIEWING, minna. Ja! 


	4. Part 4

*****4*****  
  
  
Kyoto.   
  
Familiar, busy streets, winding walkways, breathtaking scenery, and wrenching memories of the past. This city is *their* city. Their obligation. Every face in the crowd could be their next assignment. Every change in the wind could signal the approach of some new, unexpected threat. It is their link to the cold, cruel world, even if they long to avoid it.  
  
Despite all this, they walk along in a cloud of peaceful wonder, side by side in the brisk, night air, without a single thought out of place.  
  
"Ne, Hisoka, we should try our fortune again!" Tsuzuki exclaims, bouncing enthusiastically towards the small shrine beside the path.   
  
It is the same one they tried their luck at once before, but the outcome hadn't been a positive one. The pair's compatibility had proven to be absolutely zero. Naturally, such a result is entirely unacceptable.  
  
"Say yes, 'Soka! I hate getting bad news. Fate should know by now what good partners we are. Dozo!!"  
  
Annoyed by his companion's whining tone, Hisoka rolls his eyes with an audible sigh of disinterest, but nods anyway. Better to give in right away rather than suffer the affects of puppy-dog eyes and pawing at his sleeve to get him to change his mind. Tsuzuki never fails to get his way; it's just too hard to say no to him.  
  
"You're so nice, 'Soka!" the violet-eyed man beams, looking as if he's about to focus every ounce of energy within him on swaying the fortune's outcome. "This time we'll get it right. We belong together, ne?"  
  
Hisoka doesn't reply, folding his arms sourly in front of him as Tsuzuki snatches up the small slip of paper. It's not as if he's trying to cast a dark cloud over their evening, he just finds his partner's boisterous attitude a bit childish. But what did he expect? Tsuzuki is a kid at heart, always has been, and truthfully, that is exactly what Hisoka admires in him.  
  
Perhaps the real reason the grown young man is wavering in his ability to relax lies in that very observation. Wherever he turns, there stands Tsuzuki beside him: smiling, laughing, looking so vibrant and full of life.  
  
Life. Tsuzuki isn't even truly alive anymore, and he displays more humanity than most living, breathing human beings.  
  
"You hold on to it, 'Soka. I want to wait till the end of the night before we find out." the grinning brunette suggests, handing over the fortune for Hisoka to put in his pocket. Hisoka obeys with little thought, following his carefree friend down the path as they continue along. "Such a beautiful night." Tsuzuki smiles, breathing in deeply while closing his eyes, and stretching out every one of his senses to feel even the slightest change in the wind. "Why have we stayed away for so long?"  
  
"You know why..." Hisoka mumbles beneath his breath. It had merely been reflex, without thinking about what he was saying, but although his voice was low, Tsuzuki heard every word.  
  
The last time they were in Kyoto, Tsuzuki had nearly died, for the final time. Calling upon his own powerful shikigami - Touda with his merciless, black flames of destruction - Tsuzuki had summoned death itself, and waited for it to consume him. The only reason he is still here, is because Hisoka promised they could live for each other.  
  
Hisoka promised they could share eternity together.  
  
The pair pauses along the walkway, nearly identical in their sudden halt. Grievously, Hisoka casts his gaze down, ashamed for being so careless. How could he so blindly bring that awful memory back to the surface?  
  
The heat from Tsuzuki's eyes scorches his tender skin as the taller man turns to look at him. Funny thing is, their difference in height has decreased tremendously. Hisoka is barely an inch shorter than his partner now. Nevertheless, this advantage doesn't reduce his unease in the slightest.  
  
"Gomen...forget I said anything." Hisoka dismisses, refusing to meet that piercing stare, and brushing past Tsuzuki as he moves on ahead.  
  
For a moment, light, faltering footsteps follow from behind, but it is only a matter of time before Tsuzuki feels the need to speak. "Hisoka...?" he whispers, stopping in his tracks again, and wearing the most sincere and delicate expression imaginable as his companion turns back to face him. "You don't have to be brave for me. I know what happened here, but it isn't a sad memory. Not really. You think about how things almost turned out. I think about how they did. And what *did* happen is you saved me. There's no pain in remembering that."  
  
The gentle rustle of Tsuzuki's voice, the hint of moisture in his eyes, the soft smile on his lips, it is all a sight Hisoka recognizes and has seen many times before. This new body of his, however, takes in the sight in a manner his former self never did.   
  
There is a fluttering in his stomach, a sensation bordering on the familiar, but impossible to be something he could have ever understood before. He doesn't even truly understand it now. He just feels it. Feels the warmth of it. And that scares him.  
  
"Tsuzuki..." Hisoka begins, unable to find or finish a fitting thought. Gods be praised, at that very moment he is bestowed with the vision of inviting lights through the trees at the end of the path. "...we're supposed to be having fun, ne? That's what you promised." he finishes, latching on to this new distraction. "If you're going to live up to what you said...then I want to go there."  
  
Following Hisoka to the clearing, Tsuzuki realizes they have come to a side street downtown, and across the road blinks the sign for "Tenku's Tavern."   
  
A bar.  
  
"Honto ni? You want to go *there*, Hisoka? Doushite? I thought you hated places like that."  
  
"Only because I've been too small to hold my own against you." Hisoka replies, bearing the tiniest traces of a teasing smile. "Until now, that is."  
  
Such an expression is utterly unbelievable to be placed upon the young man's face, yet alone slipping its way into his voice. Simply put, Tsuzuki is positively dumbstruck.  
  
"Nani?" the younger man questions in reply to his partner's dubious look. "Don't you think I can handle a drink the way you can? It's not as if you're much competition I'm old enough now. Big enough. I want to go. You did say it was *my* decision, ne?"  
  
Tsuzuki doesn't reply at first, put off by the premonition of something he can't quite place. He isn't an empath like his oddly behaving friend, but he knows full well when he is being deceived. It may be true that Hisoka feels a need to prove something here, especially considering what happened the first time they met, but there is definitely something else.  
  
Against his better judgment, though, Tsuzuki smiles and gives his consent, even if deep down he is certain that Hisoka is avoiding him. Not *him* directly, but a feeling being produced by his company. A feeling Hisoka wants to go away.  
  
They enter the bar and claim a few stools up at the counter. It isn't very full, an out-of-the-way place, which is a welcome surprise to both of them. Hisoka has never been one for crowded places, and Tsuzuki would very much prefer to have his partner all to himself tonight.  
  
"What do you want, Hisoka?" the brunette asks, veiling his humor over the question as best he can. After all, what does Kurosaki Hisoka know about alcoholic beverages?  
  
"Ahh...you order for me. I'd take too long deciding."  
  
Grin. "Of course. How about we keep things simple then?"  
  
Tsuzuki calls the bartender over, and with that same mischievous smirk, orders sake for both of them. Simple, but with a cunning twist. There is an almost imperceptible irony to this choice, for it was the same drink that had complicated their first meeting all those years ago.  
  
Fighting over food - along with just about everything else - the pair's pointless duel had come down to Hisoka angrily tossing back Tsuzuki's glass of wine. It was done in spite, of course, and at the time Hisoka wasn't aware he was drinking anything stronger than grape juice. He was truly sixteen then, only recently having passed away, and the shock to his system knocked him right off his feet.  
  
Neither of them will ever forget it.  
  
When their order arrives, Tsuzuki starts in right away, casually, utilizing decades of experience, while Hisoka takes a few minutes to stare into his glass, debating whether or not he has chosen the right escape for evading his feelings.  
  
"Hisoka?" Tsuzuki begins, taking a long drink, and watching his younger friend humorously out of the corner of his eye. "How old are you now, anyway? I never asked."  
  
"Around 23, I guess."  
  
"23? You have a lot of years to make up for then, ne? What are you waiting for?"  
  
The question is an obvious challenge, one Hisoka isn't going to let his incredulous friend get away with. He glares for a moment, narrowing his lime-green eyes, and then with resolved resolution, downs the drink almost as fully as he had downed his potion a few hours before.  
  
This robust liquid burns its way down as well, though the feel of it is far smoother, far more agreeable, and this time it doesn't overpower him.  
  
Tilting his head towards his partner, Hisoka raises an eyebrow at Tsuzuki's initial shock, enjoying a surge of control and the acquisition of the upper hand. "Make up, did you say?" he mocks, allowing his smile to form even more completely than before. "I'm just getting started."  
  
And so the night begins, unlike any they have ever shared together. Countless times Hisoka has seen Tsuzuki drink a little more than he should, but never before has he been able to join in. It's not really a contest of who can drink who under the table, though it might have turned into that. This is a twisted way for them to bond again, newly and refreshed with the change that has swept into their lives.  
  
They actually talk. Not just about assignments, but about themselves. About friends and family. Hopes and dreams. Fears and worries. Even if the details are often left by the wayside. In fact, the details become more and more vague as the evening wanes on, and by the time they realize they have overstayed their welcome, who they are to each other has been altered, even if it is still the same.  
  
"I think I almost had you laughing tonight, 'Soka." Tsuzuki mutters through oncoming exhaustion. The night has grown quite late, and now that they are back in Meifu, Hisoka is walking along much steadier than his partner. "You surprise me. I figured I'd be carrying *you* to bed again, but instead you're carrying me."  
  
Truthfully, Tsuzuki is leaning quite heavily against Hisoka as the younger man supports him on their way back to their apartments. In fact, the grown boy appears even more alert than he did on their way down to Earth now that they are heading home.  
  
"I like your smile. So pretty." the brunette grins, rolling his head to rest on Hisoka's shoulder as he gazes up into his partner's face. "You should do it more often."  
  
The steady blonde stares down in reply to this strange compliment, feeling a blush begin to creep its way up the back of his neck. "Baka, Baka, Baka." he whispers, edging towards sounding playful again. "You're dead drunk, Tsuzuki. Listen to you, talking nonsense."  
  
"It isn't nonsense! You are veeeery pretty, 'Soka."  
  
This time, the blush does all the talking, deepening scarlet over Hisoka's entire face. He pulls his eyes away from Tsuzuki's softened features, taking in a deep breath to still his pounding pulse. Suddenly, it is racing like the clicks of Morse code, and no matter how hard he tries, he can't get it to stop.  
  
"Hai...my pretty Hisoka is still so pretty...all grown up and strong..." rants on Tsuzuki's distancing voice. He is barely holding up his own weight at all now, drifting off to sleep right where he stands, but his words continue to pour out, nonetheless. "...I made my Hisoka smile...and he wanted to laugh...even if he fought it away...so stubborn..."  
  
"Baka..." Hisoka whispers again, shivering for no sensible reason, other than that same old fluttering in the base of his stomach.  
  
They turn the final corner to the hallway housing both of their rooms, and as it has been since they first entered Meifu, not a single soul is out and about. That final turn was taken rather sharply, however, with Hisoka hugging the wall the entire time from the force of Tsuzuki against him. This disrupting movement unbalances what was already quite a bit off tilter, and Hisoka presses hard into the wall as his limp companion falls into him, draping over him as they tumble back.  
  
Once again, Hisoka is being pinned by his partner, albeit unintentionally, and once again, Hisoka cannot bring himself to move.   
  
He is stone-still and trembling.   
  
Unbearably close, Tsuzuki's arms hang loosely around his neck for support, his head rests weakly on his shoulder, and their legs are lacing between each others', brushing together, as they stand chest against chest.   
  
Hisoka's eyes stare wide in undue fear, while Tsuzuki's remain half-shut, barely aware of the position they are in. All he knows is that Hisoka is still with him. And if he had his way, Hisoka would never leave his side.  
  
"...uhh...you smell so sweet...'Soka..." Tsuzuki breathes, tingling over Hisoka's skin with every whispered word. "...my Hisoka..."  
  
Clenching shut, emerald eyes fight to keep from tearing up. Hisoka is struggling to hold Tsuzuki's emotions at bay, succeeding for a time in fending them off with his new control, but the foundation of emotion is still there, and he doesn't know how to react to what he is feeling from the man against him.  
  
It's like a cascade of need and longing, wrapped within layers of kind and gentle care. But there is something else surfacing in this new intimacy forced upon them. Whether or not it is coming from Tsuzuki...that is yet to be seen.  
  
"Tsuzuki...get off, Baka..." Hisoka demands, steadying his quivering lips as best he can with so many opposing forces. "Don't you dare think of falling asleep on me. Omoi!"  
  
Regaining control, Hisoka pushes Tsuzuki away, hanging on tightly to keep the other man from falling to the floor, but freeing himself from such close quarters. Even in their separation, he feels the remnants of kindling heat low in his stomach, and can't help questioning why he almost welcomes the feeling.  
  
(What is wrong with me...reading into him this way...? I have to stop thinking these foolish thoughts! This is Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki...)  
  
Continuing onward, they reach Tsuzuki's room in only a few short strides, while Hisoka is now basically dragging his partner along, since the somewhat larger shinigami has finally fallen asleep on his shoulder.  
  
The apartment is shadowy and dark as they enter, but there is no way to reach out for light when Hisoka's hands are so awkwardly full. Luckily, his eyes are sharper in this new form of his, and he makes his way over to Tsuzuki's bed with little difficulty. Placing the brunette down on the mattress, and situating him as comfortably as possible, the eerie irony of the whole thing strikes Hisoka suddenly, and he nearly laughs despite himself.  
  
(Right back where we started from, ne? Only now we are reversed.)  
  
Indeed, a gentle smile plays its way fittingly over the young man's newly grown features, like the finishing touches on a masterpiece. If a smile looked out of place upon him as a boy, it looks perfectly at home on his face as a man.  
  
(Baka, Tsuzuki. What are you doing to me? These feelings...I remember...but they're different with you. I almost...want them...)  
  
Backing away from the bed, Hisoka longs to escape the room almost as much as he longs to rush forward, but in the end his fear wins out, and he is heading back for his own room even before he himself realizes he is moving.  
  
(How can I think these things? Tsuzuki would never think these things. It's all in my head. It's this body. I just need a good night's sleep, that's all. These thoughts will go away. They'll go away...)  
  
He stops, his hand on the doorknob to his apartment, while his eyes linger back down the hallway to the room he just left.   
  
Slipping his hand inside his pocket, Hisoka pulls out that forgotten slip of paper - their fortune. This time, the outcome reveals a complicated relationship filled with passion and love. Not a perfect compatibility, but near enough, and if Fate herself is trying to tell them something...  
  
(...maybe I don't want them to go away...)  
  
  
*****A/N*****  
  
  
I bet I have all of you going, "Get back in that bedroom, Hisoka!!!" but you're just going to have to wait. There may be a few surprises in store, but I'm going to have to see how creative I can be when this turns into an "R" while still straying from what would be considered "NC-17". Don't worry, creativity is my strong point. Watch me make it work, and still make you melt.   
  
Love ya all, and the reviews, so keep 'em coming, and see ya next chapter! 


	5. Part 5

*****5*****  
  
  
"Watari!!" bellows Tatsumi Seiichirou's strong, masculine voice, echoing over the walls as he storms into the basement laboratory.   
  
Half-dressed for bed, he had been contentedly sleeping away, but after being aroused by the racket coming from below, literally threw on his robe as he dashed out the door. Actually, other than his navy boxers, it is the only thing he is wearing. He doesn't even have his glasses on.   
  
"It is two in the morning. What could you be doing in here to make this much noise?"  
  
"Ahh...Tatsumi-san...up already?" Watari replies meekly, smiling a toothy grin that drips of guilt and evasion. The blonde busy-body is hovering over stacks of beakers and test tubes, each filled with differently colored solutions.  
  
"Hai, thanks to you." grumbles out a fatigued reply. The poor brunette is still somewhat wrapped up in the remains of slumber. "Tell me you'll be going to bed soon, kudasai. This lab is right beneath my apartment. I can hear the steam rising from the Bunsen burners, for goodness sake!"  
  
Watari flashes a more relaxed smile at this, gathering up his supplies to be stored away until morning. "Lucky for you, I was just about to call it a night. Gomen for waking you. I guess the success of Kurosaki-kun's potion inspired me. I've been trying out new concoctions left and right ever since."   
  
Pause. The bright-eyed scientist suddenly stops dead on his way to the storage room, turning to face Tatsumi, who is still lingering near the entrance.   
  
"Have you seen him yet, Tatsumi-san? He's quite a work of art, if I do say so myself."  
  
"You always say so yourself." teases the ruffled older man, folding his arms over his chest with a thoughtful tilt of his head. "But I did see him. Tsuzuki took him down to Earth, and I saw them heading upstairs on their way back. Last I checked, the boy was putting Tsuzuki to bed."  
  
"Already? I underestimated him."  
  
"Don't jump to conclusions." Tatsumi corrects, banishing his friend's wandering thoughts. He continues to talk to him, calling out across the room as Watari disappears through the door at the back. "Kurosaki isn't like that. It will take a bit more time, I think, even if they do feel the same way about each other. I imagine the boy is at this very moment pacing back and forth in his room, debating whether or not to go back. He's an analyst, after all. He won't understand his feelings right away."  
  
Emerging from the storage closet, Watari stops to turn off lights and buzzing machinery on his way to the door, looking quite concentrated as he thinks over Tatsumi's observations. Upon reaching his friend, however, the blonde takes a moment to trail his eyes over the sight before him, raising a golden eyebrow curiously.  
  
Tatsumi's robe is clumsily tied, revealing much of his chest, as well as a few glances of dark blue boxers from the lopsided angle it is hanging off his form. With such rumpled hair and clothing, he looks positively adorable and deceivingly young, devoid of his usual tension as the call of sleep continues to beckon.  
  
"Naughty, naughty. How unprofessional of you to go out looking like this." Watari comments playfully, practically purring the words. "Kurosaki-kun may be too shy to act on his feelings, but I have a few more years of experience than he does."  
  
Prowling closer, Watari taps his fingers lightly up along his companion's exposed chest, tickling him ever so slightly, and smirking devilishly at the somewhat shocked expression turning to stare back at him.  
  
"You don't really have to go back to sleep, Tatsumi-san. I've seen you function on only an hour of bed rest before. Besides, there are so many others things we could do..."  
  
Motioning as if to speak, Tatsumi pulls out of his pursuer's clutches, but before he can utter a single word of protest, Watari silences him with a swift shake of cascading blonde hair, a firm finger to hush dissenting lips, and a gentle tug at the corner's of a certain robe's loosely hanging collar, leading both of them out of the lab.  
  
"Don't try to fight a battle you can't win, Tat-chan." the impish scientist grins.   
  
Truth be told, Tatsumi is offering less and less resistance the more he is led astray. "You're setting a terrible example, you know?" he states firmly, stumbling behind a bit as he is dragged through the halls.  
  
In reply to this oddly serious exclamation, Watari throws out a glorious laugh, like the sensual melody of a siren at sea. "Sticks and stones, Tatsumi-san. Sticks and stones..."  
  
  
-----  
  
  
Late in the night, whispers seem alive, unable to sleep, while a scream or shattering crash would be convulsively welcome. It is too dark, too quiet, and far too comfortably warm for how on edge he feels within the barren solitude of his room.  
  
Hisoka has been dressed to go to bed for ages - completely bare other than his remaining, red boxers - but for incalculable minutes he has been replaying the recent events of his life. Growing up, getting used to the change, enjoying himself with Tsuzuki, and then leaving Tsuzuki to sleep, while a stirring deep inside of him yearns to enjoy the brunette's company well into the morning.  
  
"Damn this body! And damn Tsuzuki for making it feel this way!" he growls, kicking savagely at the wall. "I never asked for this. I just wanted him to see me as an equal. How could I have known those insignificant feelings I had for him would turn into something this fierce?"  
  
Downcast and distraught, he lowers his eyes, allowing them to fall on the contents of his dresser beside him. Resting proudly on top, next to his alarm-clock and the piece of paper holding that memorable fortune, is a framed picture of himself and Tsuzuki. They are outside their building in Meifu, with the many cherry blossom trees behind them. Pink petals fall all around, delicate and graceful, and Tsuzuki is smiling broadly with his arm draped over Hisoka's shoulders. As always, Hisoka's features are contorted into a deep frown with narrowing eyes, but somewhere buried beneath the bitter mask is a spark of acceptance.  
  
More than anyone else, Tsuzuki understands him, caring for him despite all the faults he possesses. Why then, does this photo fill Hisoka with so much malice now?  
  
Burning with sudden anger, Hisoka snatches up the picture, holding it so tightly, his fingers turn white from the force of his grip. He suddenly hates the image with inhuman passion, and howling in fury, he hurls it across the room, causing it to collide with the far wall as its protective glass shatters in shards to the floor.  
  
Knock. Knock. Knock.  
  
Hisoka tenses, rigid with a quiver of cold that wracks his broadened frame. That knock is so familiar, so reminiscent of what had happened earlier in the evening. He knows the sound of that knock, sensing all too easily who is waiting for him to answer on the other side of the door.  
  
"Go away!" he yells, unmoving from his spot in the middle of the room.  
  
There is an uncomfortable silence at first, faltering to reply, but craving reprieve and consolation all the same. "Hisoka...are you all right? I heard a crash."  
  
Such a hesitant, caring voice. Tsuzuki's voice.  
  
Moving step by step across the carpet, Hisoka makes his way to the door, moving to open it only the tiniest crack, and hoping he will be able to get rid of Tsuzuki before the persistent man realizes what is haunting his partner so relentlessly tonight.  
  
(How could he have gotten here so fast?) Hisoka wonders, slowly turning the doorknob to pry it open. (Was he standing outside my door...?)  
  
Hisoka peaks out into the hallway, hiding within the shadows of the room and the angle of the door still partly closed. More than anything else, he doesn't want Tsuzuki to see him like this. Not only so emotionally troubled, but so scantily clad.  
  
"I'm fine, Tsuzuki. Now go away." he grumbles, motioning to close the door again, even before he opens it fully.  
  
Before Tsuzuki can be shut out, however, he quickly wedges a foot inside the room, keeping it propped wide enough to still make out Hisoka's face beyond the darkness. "What's going on Hisoka? Is something wrong?"  
  
"Urrg! If anything, *you're* what's wrong!" the frustrated blonde barks back. "What are you doing here, anyway?"  
  
"I...I was just going to get a midnight snack...and when I passed by your door, I heard something like glass breaking. I was concerned about you..."  
  
"Stop being concerned then! There's nothing wrong, so just go to bed and leave me alone!"  
  
Fiercely, Hisoka pushes on the door to shove it closed, but Tsuzuki's strength is more than he can match. The distressed brunette now has a hand on the door, counteracting his friend's efforts, and forcing his way inside the room despite all of Hisoka's struggling to keep him out.  
  
With a final thrust forward, Tsuzuki bursts through, knocking Hisoka a few stumbling paces back. The invaded young man stares at his intruder with widening green eyes, caught looking like some defenseless animal with no place left to run.  
  
"Hisoka, why are you pushing me away again?" Tsuzuki starts in, advancing carefully, with pleading and tender features. "I thought we..." but he quickly trails off as his eyes search out and discover the framed photo lying amidst broken glass on the other side of the room.  
  
Completely silent, he moves to the far wall and bends low, picking the picture up from the floor. His face becomes even more twisted in concern when he sees what it is, and turning back to Hisoka, the expression following his movements is near as tragic as his own.  
  
"You threw this?" he asks, looking truly hurt as he makes his way back to Hisoka's frozen form. "Why would you throw this? It's the only picture we have of us together."  
  
"So what?" Hisoka snaps, breathing heavily from his failed attempt at keeping his privacy his own, and longing to find something to cover his bare legs and chest with, though he can't find the will to move. "Maybe I don't like that picture."  
  
"But...we had so much fun tonight. Why are you acting like you hate me?"  
  
On the brink of tears, an outburst of anger, and eruptions of some emotions he doesn't even understand, Hisoka reaches out and snatches the photo from Tsuzuki's hands, spinning instantly on his heels, and shoving the picture in his dresser drawer with careless brutality.  
  
Tsuzuki is more than he can stand right now; such unwillingness to ever leave well enough alone, that oblivious nature, wrapped up in so much kind conviction, and especially those puppy-dog eyes, drooping so pathetically when he is hurt.  
  
Shaking from pent up aggression, Hisoka cannot turn back and face his friend behind him, not if what he has to face is that same sight all over again. Like himself, Tsuzuki has removed most of his clothing for bed, though considering Hisoka put him to bed fully clothed earlier, it isn't as stripped down as it could have been.  
  
With bare feet, an untucked and unbuttoned dress-shirt hanging over his crumpled black pants, and whispy strands of hair falling over his face, he looks like an over-sized doll waiting to be held.  
  
"Does the picture bother you...because you still look young in it?" Tsuzuki whispers, questioning and urgent to get an honest answer.  
  
The answer doesn't come.  
  
"Is it because...you think *I* saw you as young? That I thought of you as a little boy?"  
  
"Why not? You did." Hisoka breathes at last in reply, clenching his eyes shut, and keeping himself turned away from his partner's piercing gaze. "You still do. I saw it in your eyes all night. You look at me the same way you always did, but...when I look at  
you..."  
  
"How can you think this way, 'Soka?" interrupts Tsuzuki's pained voice. "I look at you the same, that's true, but the way I see you has never been as a little boy. I don't understand this. We had so much fun together, and then I fall asleep and wake to find you trashing your room? What's going on? Dozo, Hisoka, tell me the truth."  
  
Bitterly slow, Hisoka shifts around, staring back at Tsuzuki with tear-filled eyes and trembling hands he has clutched tightly to his chest.  
  
This pitiable image at lasts strikes Tsuzuki for what it is, at least in some form. Hisoka is standing bare before him, not just from lack of clothing with only those red boxers to keep him covered, but from the show of emotion in his eyes, on his face, and drenching every word that leaves his quivering lips.  
  
"I...I don't know." he whimpers, trying so hard to keep himself from crying outright. "All I know is you. I see you, hear you, feel you in everything, and I can't get rid of you. I don't want to get rid of you. I just want...you. And I...don't know what it means."  
  
Tsuzuki's face looks on utterly blank with lingering shock at this admission. Right in front of him, the person he loves most in the world is trying to explain that he feels the same way.  
  
Trailing his eyes over Hisoka's body, he sees what he has always seen. Beauty. Pure, unadulterated beauty. Hisoka is perfect. Smooth, defined muscles, blonde locks brushing his strong collar bone, gorgeous, sculpted features. All of it comes together, creating a handsome young man Tsuzuki adored even before the body grew.  
  
He loves Hisoka. 16 or 23, it doesn't matter. Love is love. Hisoka is Hisoka. And the tragically broken boy deserves to know the truth.   
  
Advancing forward, Tsuzuki smiles brilliantly in his approach, offering a caring expression to assure Hisoka that there is nothing to be afraid of. "My Hisoka...so *this* is what's been bothering you..." he chuckles lightly, lifting a soft, tender hand to stroke Hisoka's face and wipe those renegade tears away. "All this potion nonsense has gone to your head. You have a beautiful body, grown or not, but the body has never been what I love about you. Don't think I see you as just a kid, and don't be afraid to feel what you're feeling. I will always look at you the same way, because I will always love you the same way. And it's about time I showed you..."  
  
Hisoka releases a sudden gasp as Tsuzuki's arms slip around his shoulders, reaching up to run delicate fingers through his golden hair, and bringing their bodies as close as they had been in that awkward moment in the hallway.   
  
This time, however, it is not an accident. Not in the slightest.   
  
Leaning in close, Tsuzuki's breath tingles over Hisoka's skin, and soon his mouth is claiming his partner's deeply, forming them together as if they were one person instead of two.  
  
The intimacy of this contact washes over Hisoka like nothing else, filling him with every whim and emotion Tsuzuki is feeling. It is far more powerful than the surge he had felt from merely having the older man close against him. This is a connection running within as well as without.  
  
Sensitive and needing, Tsuzuki's tongue brushes over Hisoka's lips, seeking permission no one could possibly refuse. The force of love and longing emanating from the brunette is so unbelievably strong, Hisoka is overwhelmed, but somehow he finds the force of will to meet his own tongue to Tsuzuki's, tasting him with every caress, and wanting more with every release.  
  
When the two finally pull apart, they are breathless and flushed, and Tsuzuki's violet eyes shimmer down at his shivering companion, holding all the wonders of the world in those two sparks of light.  
  
"Did you feel it, 'Soka? Do you understand how much I love you? How I would do anything for you?"  
  
Hisoka cannot answer, barely able to breath or stand up straight, but his chest rises and falls heavily, with emerald eyes gazing hungrily in reply. They are still so close, still holding on to one another, for although Tsuzuki had been the one to enfold Hisoka, the younger man quickly followed suit.  
  
But this isn't enough. The warmth, the odd tremble low in his stomach, is not yet overcome, growing stronger, and practically growling for fulfillment.  
  
"I feel it..." Hisoka answers at last, his voice breathy and unstable. "I feel...so much of you...Tsuzuki...but not everything. Not...everything I want to feel..."  
  
Tsuzuki's eyes widen in surprise. Certainly, he has often suspected that Hisoka shares his feelings, but for the boy to say such a thing, asking for something so much deeper, with such desire behind it, is far more than he ever expected.  
  
So soon? Does Hisoka really understand what he is saying?  
  
"I needed you to know how I feel, 'Soka, but that doesn't mean I expect anything in return. I don't want you thinking you're obligated to do something you're not ready to-"  
  
"But I am ready! Look at me!" Hisoka cries, pulling back to gesture at his grown, adult body, still blushing from head to toe after the heat of their kiss. "I'm not a little boy anymore. What does it matter if you never saw me that way? It's what I was. But now...now I know what my feelings mean, and I don't want to push you away anymore, I want to pull you in. I want *you*, Tsuzuki."  
  
Lunging forward again, Hisoka clings to his partner, pressing their lips together clumsily, in desperate need to get another taste. Tsuzuki nearly stumbles back by the force of contact, half losing his balance, but somehow manages to turn. Intertwined together, they fall back against the bed, and when they finally break free again, Hisoka is hovering above, holding his companion down.  
  
"I don't want to be afraid. I don't want to keep telling myself what I feel for you is wrong. I want this, Tsuzuki. I want this..."  
  
Hisoka lets his voice trail off, beseeching Tsuzuki with the sheer intensity of his eyes for the permission to make the next move.  
  
Smiling, almost laughing, Tsuzuki's loving expression is answer enough. Tentatively, Hisoka pulls on his companion's shirt, slipping each arm slowly from the confines of fabric, and tosses it to the floor.  
  
Flawless. Tsuzuki truly has the perfect body, unparalleled in design and form. It quells every remaining hesitation Hisoka has simply by seeing it this way, so vulnerable beneath him. This is indeed what he wants. What he has wanted for so long without even realizing he ached to possess it.  
  
Tsuzuki allows Hisoka to take control, being agreeably submissive as the younger man ravages him with passionate kisses along his chest, up the side of his neck, and lingering on the delicate flesh of his ears. Tsuzuki laughs again, adoring how ravenous Hisoka's drive has become.   
  
Returning the affection with only small caresses and kisses of his own, Tsuzuki remains at the mercy of his treasured friend. He knows that Hisoka needs this feeling of control, and he understands that need. The power must be in Hisoka's hands, or the boy would collapse into a mass of grief and uncertainty, lost to something he only wants to be free of.  
  
Frantically, the heated blonde fumbles with the clasp of Tsuzuki's pants, still covering him with kisses, and manages to undo them and slip them down around his ankles, yanking them free with renewed vigor. Plaid boxers stare back at him - green, purple, and black - holding a whole new challenge.   
  
The further this is taken, the harder it will be to turn back.  
  
Even knowing this, Hisoka pauses only moment, certain of what he wants, and toys at the elastic, running his fingers beneath it teasingly, daring to search only the smallest bit further.   
  
Enough stalling; he grasps the waist of Tsuzuki's boxers and slides them down, slipping them off just as fluidly as he had with everything else. But what comes now? It isn't as if Hisoka doesn't know the answer, but his only first-hand knowledge of this comes from a very unpleasant source. All he remembers from that time is pain and fear. How can he escape that...?  
  
Tsuzuki registers this unease all too easily, reaching out to lift Hisoka's chin to meet his own tender gaze. "Someone looks a little lost..." he whispers, smiling kindly. "Why don't I take over for a while?"  
  
Powerful arms wrap around Hisoka completely and pull him down on the bed. Before he can even think to protest, their positions have been reversed, and Tsuzuki is staring down at him, with that same caring expression and comforting smile.  
  
Running strong hands slowly down Hisoka's chest, Tsuzuki gently massages the muscles, at first staying near his shoulders and down his arms, but soon moving lower, along his stomach to the groove of his hip bones. Soft, contented groans escape the back of Hisoka's throat, savoring every inch of feeling that soft touch on his skin.  
  
Expertly applied, those hands work themselves lower still, moving under the elastic of Hisoka's boxers, much as what he had experienced himself. Only Tsuzuki slips the fabric down along with his movements, stroking Hisoka's thighs, until removing the underwear all together.  
  
He lowers himself on top of Hisoka then, only slightly, and continues running his hands over every inch of that grown body, while kissing him up and down just as he had been kissed.   
  
This new turnover of power isn't frightening or unwelcome. In fact, Hisoka relishes it, devouring every touch the way his partner would devour a box of chocolate.  
  
Moving lower by the minute, Tsuzuki's teasing lips work their way down, the way his hands had worked their way down. First along Hisoka's chest and stomach, further to his hips, and further still. But before taking the next step, Tsuzuki tilts his head back up, catching Hisoka's gaze, and asking for the final say without saying a word.  
  
Nothing needs to be said now, for the flush of color to Hisoka's face, the longing in his eyes, and the pleading left to hang in the still of silence, is all the consent Tsuzuki needs.  
  
Hisoka's back arches, enveloped by his partner completely, and a small cry releases into the air. This is the moment. This is what he has been waiting for. A feeling to surpass what Muraki did to him. A pleasure so intense, it matches and surpasses what had been forced upon him by leaps and bounds of love over hate, compassion over fear.  
  
This is truly beyond finding himself on even ground with Tsuzuki. This is being a man and still being himself, loved for who he is, and in possession of everything he has ever dreamed of.  
  
The moment passes, left suspended at the height of its peak, and suddenly Tsuzuki is snuggling in close to him, whispering into his ear. "Ai shiteru...my beautiful Hisoka..."  
  
At these sweet words, Hisoka shifts, looking over into those vibrant, violet eyes, and holding onto Tsuzuki with all his remaining strength. Then, turning to take control again, he longs to offer his companion the same thrill of emotion and sensation in whatever ways he can.  
  
The night is dark and dawning, but their moment shall have another, and another, and as many as there needs to be in order to burn out the passion raging tonight, till it lingers in their hearts, leaving their bodies behind to recover.  
  
What more could either of them ask for?  
  
"...ai shiteru...Tsuzuki..."  
  
(...more than anything I have ever known.)  
  
  
*****A/N*****  
  
  
Wow. Did I just write that? My first even remotely lime-ish anything! Granted, it had to be tappered to fit into ff.net's new rules, but I think I did pretty good, and I shall forever hold that this is "R" material, not "NC-17" purely through the way it was presented. Hope it turned out okay.  
  
Also, this is not the end! One of you fine reviewers mentioned that these fics usually end after the naughty parts, but this one won't. I'm busy, but this will be finished before the week is out!  
  
By and by, what did you think of the shameless TatxWat plug? Pretty cute, ne? Don't worry, I'm gonna give 'em another one. :-)  
  
Ja! And thankies for such wonderful reviews. Plus, PLEASE REVIEW again! 


	6. Part 6

*****6*****  
  
  
True happiness. A small spec of time taken from the universe to be perfect, without regrets or consequence. They come only a handful of times in a person's existence, but they endure bit by bit as the years go by, refusing to fade completely once we have known the grace of their touch.  
  
The moon hangs low, showered with the first few rays of sunlight brightening up the horizon with dim color. It is early morning, very early, but despite the comfort of sleeping in, something burns on Hisoka's skin, rousing him awake.  
  
Bright, green eyes flutter groggily, taking in his surroundings as he wills himself more and more from the restraints of sleep. He is snuggled beneath the covers of his bed, tangled in the sheets, but he is not alone. Curled in close, with a brunette-colored head resting on Hisoka's bare chest, Tsuzuki continues dreaming away, warm and peaceful against him.  
  
When was it they fell asleep? At what point did their excursions come to an end, leaving them worn and fading into slumber? He can't remember. It had all been so easy, so fitting and complete, with every detail coming to the surface as if they had always existed.  
  
Although he can't remember when it was exhaustion overtook him, he knows very well what has awakened him now. Something isn't right. On the contrary, something is very, very wrong.  
  
Sitting up as carefully as he can, so as not to wake Tsuzuki, Hisoka hangs his long legs over the side of the bed and throws off the covers, staring down at his strangely tingling body. The sight that greets him is not at all welcome, but it is not that surprising, either. He suspected as much, for he recognizes this feeling all too well, like fire imbedded in his skin.  
  
The markings of Muraki's curse have reappeared again, covering every inch of Hisoka's form, for that white angel of cruel intentions had made certain the spell would touch every last limb. He had woven it, written it, carved it in scorching black magic personally, while ravaging the young boy's body for the perverse pleasure of causing another unimaginable pain.  
  
(No...not again...) Hisoka mourns in denial, hanging his head despairingly at this familiar realization. (...he...he's still...out there...taking hold of me...even now that I've...found something...I thought would overcome him...)  
  
Nightmares have no right to be real, but Hisoka's nightmare is. Muraki violated his mind and body, stole his life, and plagues him still, even in death.  
  
Fleeing from the bed, Hisoka snatches up his discarded boxers and slips them back on, retrieving a long violet robe from the closet to cover the remaining traces of his affliction. He can't stand the thought of Tsuzuki seeing him like this again, not after what they have experienced together.   
  
What if he thinks Hisoka's mind was preoccupied with Muraki the entire time they shared the same bed? Will he turn away, believing this? Will he walk away, regretting the night they shared?  
  
(No! Why does it have to be this way? After everything I've done, everything I have become, that bastard still has possession of me? Why?! Why am I deprived of this one happiness? Why can't I love Tsuzuki and be with him without it all being taken away...)  
  
No amount of distance put between himself and that room could be enough as Hisoka sprints out the door, flying through the hallways, down the stairs, and out into the night that is slowly fading into morning.  
  
In his haste, however, he left the door open behind him, and a gust of air rushes in, striking Tsuzuki as it wafts into the room. Left alone in the bed, this wave of cool air ripples over the slumbering man's skin, without the heat of another's body to keep him warm.   
  
Tsuzuki stirs. How late, how early, is the time ticking now, and why is he so very cold?  
  
His unexpected abandonment is realized almost instantly when he finally awakes, shooting up in bed, and searching about the room for his lost companion. Everything is so quiet and empty, eerily unsettling, and the sight of the door swinging gradually back and forth as it hangs open, makes the truth painfully clear.  
  
"Hisoka..." Tsuzuki whispers into the air, offered with no reply, but infused with the incentive to rise and search out his dear partner, no matter how much Hisoka wants to be left alone.  
  
In hardly any time at all, the drowsy shinigami is dressed in his black pants again, deciding it is all he cares to take the time putting on. Hisoka needs him, and that is what is important now. What else matters when the one you love is calling for help, whether they use words to beckon you or not?  
  
The field outside headquarters is dark and chill this early in the morning, but Tsuzuki braves the cold shadows, trudging through the damp grass and between the heavily laden trees with their excess of cherry blossoms.  
  
He stops, half-way from the building to the edge of the clearing, and cautiously looks from side to side, attempting to pinpoint a noise that has disrupted his intent steps. The wind has carried the sound of someone crying to his sharp ears, and although the voice is lower than it once was, Tsuzuki knows exactly who it belongs to.  
  
A little further and to the right, the slight view of a wheat-colored head rests against one of the larger trees. Hisoka is sitting with his back to the trunk, wrapped tightly in a shimmering robe, and sobbing loudly with his head hung limply back.  
  
Tsuzuki approaches slowly, more alert with the cold wind awakening his senses, and especially after finding what he has been looking for. "Hisoka...what's wrong?" he asks gently, crouching down beside his friend, and causing the younger man to tense and flinch his head sharply to stare back at him. "Why did you leave without saying anything?"  
  
Wiping furiously at his tears and breathing sharply from the force of them falling down his face, Hisoka's features contort angrily, and he curls more tightly into a ball, pulling his legs into his chest. "Go away, Tsuzuki! Why can't you ever...just...leave me alone...?"  
  
"Don't start this again." Tsuzuki pleads, sitting down now, though remaining a good foot away to ease the blonde's discomfort. "Tell me what's bothering you. If you shut me out, how can I help make things better? Hisoka, you never have to face anything alone. Ever. If...if you're ashamed of us...I'll understand. We're partners, and we'll always be friends, even if you regret what happened last night."  
  
These hurt but honest words sting Hisoka's ears at the sound of them, and he spins around, glaring back at Tsuzuki harshly. "Is that what you think this is about?! You think I'm ashamed!?!" he screams, unable to hold his tears at bay as they continue pouring from his eyes. "You don't know anything! I wanted last night to happen, and I don't regret any of it. If you have to know why I left...it's because...I know it'll never happen again..."  
  
Succumbing to his tragic sobs, Hisoka pulls back on his robe, revealing his chest, as well as the crimson text scrawled over it in perfect, precise writing. Tsuzuki doesn't have to ask to know the curse spreads over every limb and space of skin. He knows what Muraki did to Hisoka all those years ago. He knows how much of a hold Muraki has on him still, even if they have seen no sign of the sadistic doctor since the incident in Kyoto.  
  
The question is, does Hisoka truly feel Muraki's hold more than Tsuzuki's? In the end, the choice always comes down to him. He has the power, even as a victim, to choose his own destiny. Now that he is no longer a young boy, he also has something else.   
  
He has back in his possession the very thing Muraki stole from him, and nothing can take that away unless Hisoka allows it to be taken.  
  
"Am I supposed to hate you because of that?" Tsuzuki asks flatly, drained of all emotion in his expression. "Is that what this is all about? Muraki is still alive, still able to surface what he did to you, so you think I'm going to hate you for it? Nothing in this world, or any other, could ever make me hate you, 'Soka. I love you. I told you myself. If you don't regret us being together, what makes you think *I* would, just because of a few marks on your body?"  
  
"I...I guess...I'm afraid..." whimpers out a regretful reply. "Muraki is alive...somewhere...and whenever he comes into my life...he takes everything away from me. I can't stop thinking about him now...fearing when he'll come for me again. When he'll come...for *you*."  
  
Softening in an instant, Tsuzuki smiles tenderly with unmatched beauty, exuding kindness, and sliding up against Hisoka beside the tree, while wrapping an arm around the blonde's shaking shoulders. "If he comes again...I'll protect you. If he comes for me...I promise I won't give into him...not like I did before. We'll deal with him together. Together. Love is never wrong, 'Soka, only what you do with it. And this - us - is right, because we care for each other without asking anything in return. Ai shiteru, Hisoka. Always."  
  
Pulling the beautifully grown boy to his chest, Tsuzuki touches his lips lightly to Hisoka's forehead, holding him close and protectively. They fall into silence then, peaceful in the mere presence of each other.   
  
In the distance, the sun is beginning to rise at the coming of a new day, and the world of the dead springs to life unlike anything our world could ever know.  
  
"Have you ever seen a sunrise in Meifu, Hisoka?"  
  
"Iie, I always miss them."  
  
"Ahh, then you've been missing perfection at its best. You see, sunrises here aren't like the ones on Earth. There are colors you never dreamed of, colors that don't exist outside this world. And the feeling of the sun's morning rays aren't always warm. Sometimes, they can be as cold as ice. It all depends on the person watching it."  
  
"Hmmm...they feel perfectly soothing to me, Tsuzuki. Because I'm watching it with you..."  
  
Hisoka tilts his head up, capturing a small taste of Tsuzuki's lips, and receiving a beaming smile in response. They settle in together, warmed by the touch of the sun as well as each other. Nothing ever comes easy, after all, but when it is time, all the pieces fall into place.  
  
"Being with you, that's all I need, Tsuzuki. All I'll ever need. Without you, everything is wrong, so sharp and cold. I'm nothing without you. Nothing if not by your side. Ai shiteru, Tsuzuki. Ai shiteru..."  
  
  
-----  
  
  
"Watari...what are you doing? Come back to bed..."  
  
"Gomen, Tat-chan. Just admiring the view." the rumpled blonde replies, leaning against the window pane casually.  
  
The pair is in Watari's apartment near the end of the building, and the window in his bedroom has a perfect view of the cherry blossom trees outside. Standing beside it, wearing only a thin pair of cotton pants, the observing scientist has been watching the heart-warming scene in the field since Hisoka first dashed outside.  
  
"Seems you were wrong about Kurosaki-kun." he grins, looking over his shoulder at Tatsumi in the bed. The wearied brunette is even more ruffled than Watari, sitting up with the covers barely covering his waist. "I think they'll be all right now, though new horizons are never easy. Maybe I'll have to give little Bon some pointers."  
  
"I doubt he wants anything of the sort. Can't you ever leave other people to their own business?"  
  
"And what if I had left *you* to *your* own business?" Watari shoots back. "Would we be here together now? Or would you be pining over a stack of paperwork?"  
  
Tatsumi narrows his eyes dangerously, but doesn't reply. After all, though Watari can be an incredible pain, it's nearly impossible to win an argument against him. Most shinigami have learned to not even bother. It's a dead-end road; he has an answer for everything.  
  
"I'll give them their privacy, I think." Watari comments lightly, tossing his loose locks of blonde hair over his shoulder as he heads back to the bed. "There are more pressing matters to attend to. I know how much you loath getting off schedule, Tatsumi-san."  
  
Raising a regal eyebrow, Tatsumi tilts his head questioningly as Watari joins him in the bed again. "Don't think this means you're getting a raise."  
  
"Ouch. What do you take me for? I'm already getting my end of the bargain. Better behave yourself if you want to keep getting yours."  
  
"Hentai."  
  
"Right back at you."  
  
  
*****owari*****  
  
  
A/N: Wow, I did it again. Another fic behind me. Hope you liked the sap, and the other TatxWat moment. Sometimes, I just can't help myself. Thanks a million to all the reviewers, and PLEASE REVIEW for this final part. All my love and prayers! See ya next fic, minna! 


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